


the kindest thing

by pchsnplms



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, POV Third Person, look it's a simple self-indulgent fic, suicudal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29808315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pchsnplms/pseuds/pchsnplms
Summary: Yennefer gets lost in a forest after a terrible attack on her life. Heavily wounded, she loses consciousness, and wakes up in a cabin with a strange man who seems to be unable to speak, and, well, the rest is history. (it's really not but i needed to end the summary somehow)
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	1. Yennefer

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i know jaskier isn’t the english name of the flower but i like the way it sounds so i’m pretending it’s fine. let’s all do that. thank you.  
> also thanks to wonderful @thetaleofthedragonage on tumblr for editing this...... whatever it is!

As Yennefer stumbles and nearly falls down, she thinks she sees a light in the distance between the trees. The wind throws snowflakes in her face, and it feels as if they are cutting up her skin. The witch is exhausted, covered in blood after an unexpected attack and has barely any idea where she is.

She doesn't know who tried to kill her, or why, and she doesn't think she cares much any longer. Life keeps trying to bring her down, again and again, and Yen is starting to think she might give in soon. She is strong, sure, but she is also tired, and what's the point of fighting, anyway? She is alone in this world, even more so than most people. It's the most painful thought she's ever had to deal with, and it won't let her go.

Her thoughts go in circles and keep bringing her nowhere, much like her feet.

With her teeth clenched, Yennefer growls and shakes her head furiously. She will not be defeated, not by random assassins, not by this terrible snowstorm, and definitely not by her own weakness.

Still, when she feels her consciousness slipping away, the witch can't help but hope... maybe she won't wake up this time.

***

It's hot when she comes to her senses again. A warm light is barely visible through her eyelids. Yennefer realizes she can't move her leg, as if it's bound to something, and her whole body hurts, but there is no wind, or snow, or howling of the wolves.

Before falling back into uneasy sleep, the witch feels someone lightly touching her hair.

***

Yen feels suddenly cool and realizes someone has just pulled a blanket off of her. Gentle hands are running up and down her arms, changing the bandages she didn't know she had. The witch struggles to tear her eyes open. It takes way more energy than it should have.

A man is sitting on the side of her bed, eyelashes fluttering over his light blue eyes as he's fully concentrated on her wounds.

Yen looks down and tries to fight the light sickness at the sight of deep cuts and burns covering most of her body. She's been in pain for so long she got used to it, and because of that didn't think the injuries were too severe. A slight shudder runs through her body, and the man looks up.

He smiles softly, almost nervously, and gestures for the witch to lie still. He rushes to the table at the other end of the room and brings a wooden cup of water to Yennefer's lips. She chugs it, suddenly feeling thirsty, and takes the chance to look around as the man carefully holds her upright.

It seems they are inside a small cabin. There is only one room with a bed, a table with just one chair, and a big clay stove. There are herbs hanging on the walls, and a few boxes of them on the floor. In the corner, there is a trapdoor. Almost everything around her is made of wood, and as Yennefer guesses, by the owner of the house himself.

After drinking all the water the witch falls back on the pillow. Every inch of her skin hurts, and she remembers what the assassins have done to her: their cold blades running all over her body, the burning charcoals thrown at her, the way they tried to beat her down and must have broken at least a few bones.

That's right.

She tries to move her leg, and once again is unable to do so. She tries to lift herself up a bit and look, but the man puts a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"My leg," Yennefer says. "What's wrong with it?"

The man purses his lips in a sorrowful expression, and pulls the blanket away. Yen can see now that it's bound to a splint and bandaged up. Broken, then. The man has apparently put bandages all over her wounds, as well as braided her hair, for some reason. That’s the least of her concerns at the moment, though.

The stranger squeezes her shoulder, his whole demeanor expressing compassion.

"Can't you speak?"

He shakes his head, strands of short dark hair falling onto his face. Yen can't quite figure out how old he is.

"Why?"

A shrug. His eyes spark, and she knows that there is a story to be told there, but doesn't ask. There wouldn't be much point, would there?

"Alright, then... Thank you," she adds quietly, already feeling tired.

She has many more questions, the most important one being whether she is safe here, but somehow the witch doesn't feel the need to ask that. She simply knows no one can reach her in this little house.

With that comforting thought, she drifts back to sleep.

***

Yennefer doesn't sleep as much as loses consciousness every now and again, only coming around for long enough to eat and see the man fuss over her. He gives her a delicious warm soup and sometimes, sweet porridge and tea. Changes her bandages, putting some salve on the wounds. And most often, braids her hair. She wants to ask about it until she feels weak waves of healing magic surge through her body every time he does that.

The witch isn't sure how that works but she knows she is slowly getting better. She stays awake longer each day, and soon realizes the man spends much time outside the house. Every time he opens the door, she closes her eyes. A foolish, childish thing to do, but she can't force herself to face the world just yet.

The bandages come off. Yennefer starts to get up, helps the man cook and clean, even though he furrows and slaps her hands lightly each time. It looks so ridiculous she breaks out in laughter and gets such an insulted glare it makes her laugh twice as hard. The witch can't remember the last time she felt genuine joy, and the thought makes her smile bitter.

Yen knows the man is studying her, his blue eyes fixed on her lips as the laughter quickly died out. She almost hears his thoughts; he is trying to figure something out about her as hard as she, about him.

"I'm Yennefer," she offers.

He smiles brightly, and the witch mirrors it without realizing. Suddenly, the man runs up to the wall and picks a dry flower out of a few hanging up there. Yen furrows in confusion when he points to it persistently.

"What? Flower?.."

He rolls his eyes and throws up his hands. All his gestures go through the man's whole body, fluid and impulsive.

"It's a jaskier?"

He nods quickly, a few times, and points to himself.

"Jaskier? Your name is Jaskier?" She stops herself from laughing, afraid to offend her saviour, and only smiles wilder.

He answers with a grin of his own.

"You're serious? Like a flower?"

Jaskier raises his eyebrows with offense as if to ask what her problem with it is, and she lifts her hands in a surrendering gesture.

"It's pretty, I guess."

The man's smile becomes ridiculously suave and he points to her.

"I'm pretty? Obviously."

It's the first time she hears his laughter, soft but clear as bells. The sound catches her off-guard with how genuine and open it is. In a second, Yen notices the man is looking at her with something like gentleness in his eyes and becomes afraid he might have seen the same in her own half-absent stare.

***

Jaskier's hands are running a comb down her hair, slow and careful. Yennefer isn't used to people touching her with anything even reminiscent of tenderness, and in these last few weeks she still hasn't gotten used to it. She had lovers full of desire, going-to-be murderers guided by rage, mercenaries driven by the promised reward. Never care. If she'd gotten any in her childhood, she doesn't remember it now. Jaskier seems to sense it, somehow, and only ever tries to braid her hair at night, when Yennefer knows her heart gets softer. Healing magic fills up her veins, and the injuries fade with each day.

She knows she can't stay much longer. The broken leg takes the longest to heal, but even so, the outside world is waiting for her. She needs to get back what's hers, let everyone know she's alive and will not be defeated by some pathetic assassins, that Destiny hasn't broken her yet.

Yennefer isn't sure she wants to, though. The fire that used to burn in the lungs seems to have quieted down; it has always been fueled by rage, bitterness against everyone and everything that she's ever touched. But after a few weeks spent in this little house, she doesn't feel it. For the first time since she was a little child, it's not there.

The absence scares the witch.

***

She likes watching Jaskier. He's very awkward at times, but also incredibly careful with everything he takes in his hands. He cooks, makes salves and something like potions out of his herbs, goes out to do something in the woods. Sometimes, he brings small animals and birds into the house, poor hurt creatures, and helps them heal, too. When Yennefer asks who he is, that's where he points: out of the door.

"The forest? Are you a spirit?"

He smiles softly and shakes his head. Points to the trees, and then himself. Wiggles his fingers, draws a line across his neck.

"The forest, magic, your voice? A forest spirit took your voice?"

Jaskier nods but doesn't seem saddened by the fact at all. He takes a strand of Yen's hair in his gentle fingers, and then lightly runs a hand down her shoulder, her side that used to be heavily wounded, her thigh. The witch struggles to breathe evenly when meeting his gaze.

"You're a healer. You gave up your voice for the ability to heal?"

Another nod.

"Why do you live here? You could make money healing people."

The man shakes his head decisively and points to the ground. He's staying here, not leaving. Can't leave?

"Is that a part of the deal?"

After getting another silent nod, Yennefer goes quiet for a few minutes. Jaskier is sitting next to her on the bed, clearly in no rush. It's nice, he never has to be anywhere, never has places to go. It's just this little house, and miles of forest around. Quiet, peaceful and safe. _Does it get boring,_ Yennefer wonders? _Would she get bored if she stayed?_ a tiny voice in her head asks.

"You help the forest creatures. The trees, too, I'm guessing? The spirit gave you that power?"

Jaskier confirms. It makes sense. The witch has no idea how one would get in that sort of situation, but it doesn't matter much, she supposes.

***

Jaskier likes watching her, too. She can feel his gaze sometimes, warm and caring on her back when she's trying to fall asleep facing the wall. Almost always, he has a little smile on his face, a relaxed, content expression.

Sometimes it's just too loud for her. The affection in his eyes.

Yennefer from the past would hide her feelings as best as she could. Better yet, she would choke them out before they had a chance to truly develop. They never lead anywhere good. But here... it's all so different. The world might be cruel and unfair, but this house stands apart from it. It's always warm here, and she is taken care of, she's... loved. Must be.

It's a terrible word. It always leaves a bad taste in her mouth, and even thinking it clearly makes Yen almost physically sick. Never leads anywhere good, right?

But here is Jaskier, so open and comfortable with his feelings it makes Yennefer feel like she is going mad. Perhaps, she is still lying half-dead on the forest floor, and all this is a hallucination. This place, this man can't be real.

He's good. Truly, one of the very few good things she saw in this world. Jaskier's smiles are so genuine and open they warm her whole heart, and he looks at everything around with such wonder Yen feels an echo of it, too. The witch wants him to stay that way. She wishes she could protect him from anything bad ever happening to him. She'd like to return the care he's giving her, and be as gentle as he is. It's stupid, ridiculous even, but sometimes she wants to put a loose strand of his hair in its place, or run her hand down his shoulder in a comforting gesture when he's worrying about another little animal in his care, or hug him to help him get warm after a long day out.

Yennefer lets all those thoughts loose in her head, and there is no going back from there.

***

Her leg heals enough for her to take away the splint, and walk with Jaskier's support. Leaning onto his side, with his arms around her, Yennefer even feels at peace enough to leave the house from time to time, and to take short walks. Mostly, however, she stays in: helps Jaskier to prepare salves, watches a little fox that seems to be living with them now and plays with it when Jaskier is gone. When he isn't they sometimes talk, the man using elaborate gestures to get his points across, or play cards he finds somewhere in a drawer. The communication is surprisingly easy for them, and Yennefer struggles to remember the last time she truly enjoyed spending time with someone quite as much as she does with Jaskier.

The winter will end soon, she realizes. If she spends a few more weeks in this cabin, it's going to be very hard to leave without drowning in mud. Jaskier seems to know that, of course, and his glances become rather sad, as if he is already mourning her departure.

Yen isn't the kind to talk much, but she gets almost chatty in the last few days. She tells Jaskier that she's a witch (he sensed that with his magic already), most often works for nobles, that she ended up nearly dead in the forest because someone had apparently ordered her assassinated. Jaskier listens, and it almost feels like a dialog: his mannerisms and face expressions say way more than most people's. It's kind of adorable, Yennefer thinks.

She feels calm when it's time for her to leave. The challenges she's been facing her whole life are still there, but the devastation isn't.

Facing the world is a little bit easier when you know you are not alone anymore.

"I will come back for you," she says at the door.

Jaskier smiles and nods, looking away. Clearly, he doesn't believe her, so Yen does what she's wanted to do for quite a while, - the only thing that seems right, that she's completely sure about.

She takes Jaskier’s face in her hands, stands on her tiptoes and kisses him.

His eyes go wide at first, and he waves his arms around, hitting the door frame. The wind is howling around them, the snow is falling, today's first ray of sunshine goes through the trees, and then, Jaskier kisses her back.

It's soft and so tender Yennefer wants to cry, and this ridiculous, ridiculous man hugs her, pulling her closer by the waist. His hands are starting to slide up and down her back, going through her hair gently.

Yennefer thinks she feels the magic again, but it might just be her heart, beating like crazy.


	2. Jaskier (epilogue)

Jaskier has lived in the forest for two years now. It went like this: the bard slept with someone’s wife, got in trouble, got stabbed in the chest and left bleeding out on the forest floor. Then, a spirit found him, and offered to help. The deal was simple enough; Jaskier had to give up the most precious thing he owed to save his life.

Naturally, life without his voice seemed like a nightmare at first, but he got used to it.

There was also something the spirit didn’t mention. It left the forest, and Jaskier appeared to have taken its place. He couldn’t live the woods, no matter how hard he tried.

“Bloody magic,” he thought, wishing he could at the very least scream his lungs out, call to someone, find another person to save him from boredom. Of course, he could do none of those things.

Yennefer was the first.

He’s fallen for her fast and hard, as he always did. She made his life infinitely better for a few months, as they generally do. And then, she decided to leave, as they do always. Jaskier could do nothing but watch her walk away with a sad smile.

***

Weeks have gone by, and his life went back to this soul-tearing normal. He likes to take care of the animals, and the woods have given him a lot of inspiration over the years, but living alone practically means pure suffering for the bard. Former bard, he corrects himself.

And then, out of nowhere, he heard footsteps. Human footsteps just outside his cabin.

Jaskier bolts for the door, and right as he pushes it, he feels someone open it from the outside.

Yennefer.

Jaskier thinks he might fall unconscious because she is so breathtakingly beautiful. And yes, a big part of it is the perfect bright makeup and a fancy dress, but her, simply her whole being, is the best thing in the whole world, something so bright and wonderful he couldn’t imagine it in his wildest dreams.

He smiles widely, and hugs her.

He learns a few new things about the witch in the following hours: she is incredibly smart, she can find or invent a spell for anything, even summoning a spirit, and she can be absolutely terrifying when she wants something.

Jaskier hadn’t thought he could love her any more, but by gods he does, because somehow this amazing woman managed to scare the ancient spirit into freeing him.

“Drink this, and you should have you voice back,” she says as she hands him a cup (and another, to the spirit). Jaskier tries his absolute best to quickly come up with a good thing to say after being silent for two years.

“Fucking YES! Finally!” he yells, only barely managing not to choke on the last sip of the potion, and lets out a short laugh, pointing an accusing finger at the spirit. “You, all right, I know I should be grateful for my life and all that, but who _the fuck_ makes deals like that?! It was absolutely _unfair_ , you tricked me, left me completely fucking alone after, _let me tell you this, Yen,_ taking away the most precious thing I own! What, pray tell, is a bard supposed to do in the woods, alone, without his voice?!”

The spirit opens its mouth, but Jaskier puts his finger up, gesturing for it to stay silent. Yennefer watched them both with something like shock in her eyes.

“No. No! I will not listen to you. You tricked me and left be to die of boredom! Goodbye, cruel creature, and may we never meet again!”

He doesn't shut up for the next two hours, at least. Jaskier talks and talks as he packs his things, as the walk through the woods, telling her everything he couldn't over the months they've known each other. The only thing that can shut him up is kisses, and to be completely honest, the witch doesn't mind that. She laughs when Jaskier promises to write her a ballad for every kiss they share, and he starts composing one right on the road.

Yen thinks she will one day regret giving Jaskier his voice back. Strangely enough, in the many years to come, she never does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, thanks to everyone for reading! <3


End file.
